Drift
by bremaleyes
Summary: When the Curtis parents died, no one knew what to expect. Especially the infamous Curtis brothers. Will they face it, and move on? Or will the demons continue to taunt them forevermore?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, this is my first ever fanfiction on this site ! Most of my stories are on my Wattpad account which is Tuff_Greaser! Mind you, until Christmas, I've only had my phone to write, so I generally have some typos in my stories. My writing skills have improved over the fourteen months I've been on Wattpad, and I wanted to give writing on this site a try! Reviews are very much appreciated; any feedback would be helpful! Now, enjoy the first installment of** 'Drift' 

' _In which there is no way to end it; the constant ramble in your mind, endlessly saying it's your fault...'_

He had always had doubts about these…circumstances. He had always wondered whether everything was in shambles because of him or not. He always wondered what things would be like if he'd leave everyone be, and stick by himself. He was worrying everyone though; he just hasn't been the same ever since his parents died. Anyone with any one of their five senses could tell, even a complete stranger.

He used to be mesmerizing; his emerald eyes used to glimmer with curiosity of the world. Now they were glazed over with simple confusion. He didn't know much of anything no longer, and this astonishes everyone around him. He was haunted, and always looked as if he's just seen a ghost. He couldn't help it. Every single day, the only thing in his mind was his dear, deceased mother and father; screaming, crying for help. And no one ever came. He could've told them not to go out that night, he could've said the weather was pretty bad; which it was. The funeral was in two days and he wasn't so sure if he could handle it. He was at the edge of an abyss in which he'd soon find himself lost inside of. He didn't have a clue on how to find himself.

And he doesn't aspire to find out how.

February 20th, 1965…

The sun was shining as if the moon would on thirteen-year-old Ponyboy Curtis' ivory skin as he grumbled incoherently in his surprisingly peaceful slumber; interrupting his treasured rest. Heavy violet bags rested underneath his tightly shut eyelids, and he had his brothers wondering how all of this has fallen upon the trio. They didn't deserve any of this- they were still just kids. Sodapop was a growing teenager in need of gentle parental advice, Darry had just been accepted in Tulsa University, unprepared for this, and Ponyboy was just in middle school, he needed his parents. His other's gentle touch, his father's loving words. He wasn't ready for them to go, and he never will be.

No one ever will be prepared.

Ponyboy honestly had absolutely no desire to wake up, for he has only gotten a few mere hours of sleep the night before, and he didn't have to worry about waking up at any specific time- it was winter break and besides, even if it wasn't break, Darry would let him and Sodapop stay home from school for a while. Yet, the sun was blindingly light and shining in his eyes, as if it was beckoning for the auburn-haired Greaser to open his eyes. And reluctantly, he begrudgingly did.

He slowly sat up on his bed, swinging his legs over so they dangled off the bed, shifting his body slightly; causing the bed to creak at the smallest movement. He let a yawn escape his peachy lips as he looked around his once cozy bedroom, getting familiar with his surroundings once again. He suddenly shivered, feeling cold all of a sudden. He wasn't used to this; and he wasn't quite sure if he'd ever be used to the chill in the household- minus two. He groggily rose to his feet, staggering for a few split moments- but he soon recovered by placing his pale hands on his wooden dresser to steady himself. He heaved an almost inaudible sigh, then opened his dresser drawers- yanking out clean clothes for the day. He slammed the drawers shut, and not hearing the shower run; he took the chance to silently open his door, thanking the lord it didn't creak, then tip toeing across the hall to the bathroom. He automatically turned the lock so no one would get any funny ideas, then ran his fingers through his messy, ungreased hair. He turned the shower on to its hottest temperature, then stripped of his boxers and threw them in the hamper. He stepped in, knowing he had to be quick, and quickly lathered his hair with shampoo then washed his body. He quickly rinsed off, and a few short minutes later he forced himself out of the luxurious shower and turned the water off. He dried off and pulled clean clothes on his slender body, set the towel aside, then practically bolted to the sink. A grin spread across his face for a few moments when his eyes laid upon the can of hair grease. Hair grease was something he and most other Greasers took pride in- it was one of the things that made them Greasers after all.

Once applying the pomade to his hair, he was ready for the day. He heard low tones out in the living room or kitchen, and knew what he'd have to face. All those concerned eyes, those voices.

Those memories.

It's only been an ungenerous -week since Mr. and Mrs. Curtis passed on, things were still utterly erroneous as ever. That very night the no longer innocent Curtis brothers has found out from not so empathetic police officers would be forever marked in their tainted minds.

Ponyboy shook his head at such negative thoughts, his body snapping out of its distressed haze as quickly as he got in the trance. He looked down at the socks cozily covering his feet, his vision slowly getting blurrier and hazier by the very second. The world seemed the be crashing down as he breathed, everything was so mixed up for the youngest Curtis. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. He felt foolish for crying basically fifteen minutes after he had woken up; what kind of moron does that?

"Ponyboy?"

The voice that had spoken was inevitably soft and uncharacteristically meek. Ponyboy didn't even bother blinking away the tears threatening to fall from his glistening eyes. The middle Curtis brother grabbed his chin and carefully lifted his head up so he could look in his eyes. "C'mon Pone…," Sodapop slowly started. "Let it out…I- I miss Mom and Dad too…"

Sodapop knew he just had to be strong for his littlest brother, but he wasn't doing too well; at least in his mind he wasn't. The two both had bags under their usually bright eyes; for the lack of sleep the two had received the night before had taken a toll on them; he too was teary eyed- his usual strong dark brown eyes full of grief and woe. Ponyboy wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his head deep into his shirt, muffling the soft sobs escaping his lips. Ponyboy was trying so hard to be tough like a Greaser- to keep his walls built up high; but they were slowly crumbling, bit by bit, each-and-every second he was being held in his brother's arms.

It seemed like it was eternity before the two inseparable brothers mustered up just enough courage to pull away from the comforting embrace and to brush away the few stray tears on their cheeks. Ponyboy managed a small smile. "C'mon, let's go get some breakfast- I know you haven't eaten…" Sodapop's eyes glimmered with immeasurable sadness as he smiled softly at Ponyboy; and he nodded.

The duo had walked back into the dining room, seeing their oldest brother Darry sitting in a chair- his coffee cup half full with strong plain coffee; he had always said that kind of coffee soothed him in an odd way. The Sunday paper was flipped to the 'Help Wanted' section. This had made Ponyboy give his oldest brother a look of sympathy; It's only been one week and so much has changed. Just a month or two Darry had received an athletic scholarship for a university only half an hour away. The look on his face when he had received the letter was priceless. His icy blue-green eyes lightened, and his grin was so wide on his face his small yet noticeable dimples had shown. He had never felt so accomplished in his life.

And within a blink of an eye, everything had changed.

Sodapop sat down at the table with Ponyboy in tow. "Whatcha lookin' at Dar?" Sodapop had asked, his voice filling the air. Darry looked up at the eyes of his curious brothers for a split second; then back down at the newsprint in front of him. "Job advertisements. If I wanna keep you boys I gotta get a job- and fast." This time Ponyboy spoke up; his voice quiet and dull as a knife. "You mean you ain't lettin' us get sent to a boy's home?"

Boy's homes were something all the Curtis brothers dreaded. The idea of being separated haunted the back of their minds constantly, and occasionally their nightmares. Both sets of eyes shockingly landed on Ponyboy's at the same time; for the fear hidden in his voice was astonishing. "No," Darry started. "I wouldn't dream of it." Sodapop was the first to react; his lips spread into an irresistible grin and his eyes sparkled. "I knew you couldn't let us go like that…" Sodapop said, his voice full of unmistakable respite. Darry sent the two brothers a small smile. "Of course, not, ya goofs." "Good to know."

Sodapop pulled some eggs and bacon on his plate, spreading jelly onto the eggs; earning a look of disgust from Ponyboy. While shoveling the eggs into his mouth he looked at Ponyboy. "Wha-?" His voice was muffled from the amount of food from his mouth, some jelly spilling from his lips. Darry's lips curled up, he just shuddered and kept his eyes glued to the newspaper.

Once breakfast was finished- Ponyboy grabbed all the empty dishes and set them in the sink, turning on hot water and lathering the dishes in soap. The rule of this household was first one up makes breakfast and last one up does the dishes. Besides, he didn't really mind much at all, he desperately needed to get things off his overactive mind. He figured he'd take his sweet time doing dishes- what's the rush anyway? But…now he wanted to just hurry up. He didn't know how much longer he can stay in this house that reeks of agonizing memories.

He'd feel even worse if Two-Bit, Steve, Johnny and Dally decided to poke their heads in. He was desperate for things to go back to the way they were before, and that was simply impossible. A melancholy silence filled the kitchen air as he finished washing the dishes. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the coffee table and walked outside. He yanked out a slightly crumpled cigarette and a lighter then lit it; pressing the stick to his lips for a moment or two- pulling it back and exhaling a smoke ring.

"Well I'll be damned- how'd you manage that Horseman?"

Ponyboy cocked up an eyebrow, looking down the porch steps, seeing Two-Bit and Steve opening the metal fence. "Simple," he started lamely. "I shut my mouth and focus on it." Steve rolled his eyes in amusement. "Kid's getting' mouthier and mouthier every single day…" He begrudgingly muttered, jamming his fists in his pocket as he walked up the porch with Two-Bit close behind. Sending Ponyboy one last look- he walked inside the house, letting the door slam shut. Two-Bit leaned against the post, eyeing Ponyboy wearily. "Hey uh kid, how you holdin' up?" You could tell Two-Bit was being serious, his stature may be relaxed, but his eyes were a different story. They were tense and full of immeasurable seriousness, which was an extremely rare sight to see. Ponyboy shrugged his shoulders, his eyes suddenly transfixed to the floor. "Just dandy, man." He had answered, taking another quick drag of his cigarette, flicking the ashes over the porch railing with intense nonchalance.

Two-Bit didn't even blink, he didn't believe his youngest friend. He felt bad for the Curtis', their parents were the only ones that even gave a hang about their kids around here, and they died a heart-rending way; their car getting hit- by a train. He vaguely wondered why did all the good people died around here, he wondered how come those no good Socs get all the breaks.

"…Ok…" he finally said, shrugging his shoulders; knowing for a fact Ponyboy wouldn't cave in. He ruffled Ponyboy's silky locks with glee and cackled joyfully as he heard Ponyboy groan and whine about it in the background.

Ponyboy turned his attention back to his cigarette; seeing it was completely burned out he tossed it on the ground lightly. He wanted to do more though; he wanted to scream, bawl, punch something. He wanted to scream to the world his hatred and confusion for the whole tragedy.

He wondered why this even happened, why they chose his parents to go. It was foolish in his mind; he felt all alone in this.

They were slowly pulling apart, thread by thread.


	2. sorry everyone:(

Hey everyone. A lot has been going on, and I have little to no motivation to update. So I'm deleting this story. I'll be writing stories in the future, hell, I may even write one shots like I do on Wattpad.


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